


Bound To The Struggle

by BalanceOfChivalry



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Chosen-One Adora, Darkside Adora, Eventual Smut, F/F, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force-Wielder Scorpia, Jedi Glimmer, Jedi Mermista, Jedi Perfuma, Lightside Catra, Padawan Frosta, Pilot Seahawk, Politics, Role Reversal, Sith Lord Hordak, Sith Lord Shadow Weaver, Star Wars AU, Technician/Co-pilot Bow, balance, light vs dark, mild slowburn, plot heavy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2020-03-07 09:26:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18870412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BalanceOfChivalry/pseuds/BalanceOfChivalry
Summary: A war rages in the galaxy between forces of light and dark. The Rebellion is trying to build a mighty Republic to withstand the terrors of Lord Hordak and the Horde Empire. Only the Jedi Order seem capable of securing peace, but even in the Rebellion corruption looms.Months ago Adora left the only family she had ever known, joining the Jedi and following a destiny to bring balance to the Force. But she also left behind a piece of herself.Catra finally decided to follow the light in her heart and defect from the Horde, realizing her self-worth is more than what the Horde made of her.While the two finally seemed to be on the same path, dark forces push them apart once more. What happens when they both think the other is gone?The galaxy needs Light and Dark; one cannot exist without the other.It's up to Adora and Catra to find this balance together.orThe Star Wars AU no one knew they needed.





	1. Loss - Adora

Smoke billowed as flames spread across the prison, circuit boards spraying electric currents as the destruction continued. Bodies were scattered across the prison yard, most dead, but others incapacitated to say the least. Those who survived would succumb to their wounds, their skin split apart by the blade of a lightsaber, others missing legs, arms, and hands.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

A young girl fell to her knees in the middle of the chaos. Her clothes were torn and scorched, a blaster wound making her shoulder burn with the effort of gripping the hilt of her blade. The dark blue blade shrank as she sheathed her weapon, continuing to hold it as if it was all she had left.

In a way it was.

Catra was _gone_.

Sobs wrecked the girl’s body as she finally let herself crumble, falling forward on her hands and knees. The reality of what had happened, what she had _done_ hitting her full force.

In the span of a few hours, she had lost everything. Nothing could convey the agony her heart felt in this moment.

Her blue eyes, once so full of hope, pride, and eagerness to make a difference, now red with tears, were full of pain, loss, and shame.

She never wanted this to happen. _How_ did this happen?

Her wails of pain, subsided for a moment, only to allow herself to look up, look around at what she had done. The death and destruction she had caused.

The prison was falling apart around her, walls scattered with blaster bolts that missed their target, flames spreading throughout the short-circuited wires and consoles, glass shattered from thrown bodies, lights flickering from cut cables.

The bodies. _God,_ the bodies.

The girl pushed herself up to her knees, fresh tears falling down her cheeks.

The bodies of rebel soldiers were in every direction, people she had sworn to serve, to protect.

She had killed them all.

More sobs built in her chest, her throat closing at the memories swirling through her head. How she had killed them. All of them.

They wouldn’t stop coming. Wouldn’t stop shooting. And Catra…

She should have never convinced her to surrender. She had left all those months ago, abandoned her best friend, watched her become more powerful by the day while fighting on opposite sides. She watched her become more conflicted too.

Joining the rebels, becoming a Jedi…she thought that was the right thing to do. But they…

_She’s dead because of you._

_You couldn’t save her._

_She did this for you._

She was supposed to help Catra come into the light. Away from the Horde, away from the dark side. And they could have been together. Could have won the war for the rebels, could have _helped_ people.

And now?

“Adora…?”

Adora’s blood ran cold, her body frozen on her knees in the prison cell.

“My, my, my, how much destruction you’ve caused,” Shadow Weaver stepped into Adora’s line of vision, looking much worse for wear. Her mask was cracked, the stone missing from its place, the regal robes replaced by a prison uniform. Her hands were cuffed together in a special energy beam.

Adora didn’t meet her eyes. Her grip on the hilt of her lightsaber tightened.

“When I heard all the commotion, I never expected to see you at the heart of it,” Shadow Weaver looked around the room, stepping over bodies as she approached Adora. “I always knew you were capable of such beautiful chaos.”

Shadow Weaver sounded proud.

Adora felt sick.

Shadow Weaver stopped a few feet away from the girl, examining her. She looked broken. The shell of the pupil she once trained and guided, and yet _power_ exuded from her. All those years ago, she knew this one was special.

Adora was destined to become more powerful than any of them could ever dream.

And it was her job to get her there.

“You look lost,” She began. She had to tread carefully, her old cadet was in a clearly fragile state.

Adora finally lifted her head, blue eyes hollowed and red with tears, “This…” her voice cracked, raw from her sobs, “This is what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it?”

Did her student really think so poorly of her? After everything she had given her?

“No, Adora. This is never what I wanted for you, _from_ you,” She bent down, meeting Adora’s gaze evenly. “I wanted you _strong_ , unbreakable, devoid of weaknesses. And yet here you are, looking as pathetic as the day I found you. Alone, scared, forgotten.”

The air rippled, even through the dark lord’s shackles she could feel Adora’s power. She continued anyway.

“I tried so hard to get you to understand. To build you into who you needed to be! The Jedi made you weak, Catra made you –”

A force unlike any she had ever felt barreled into Shadow Weaver, throwing her back until she hit the wall. Unseen tendrils of power licked up her body, closing in around her throat and lifting her off the ground, suspending her in place.

“Don’t you dare talk about her!” Adora was on her feet now, hand held out as if she was choking her. Her eyes were ablaze in anger, her other hand gripping the hilt of her blade.

Pride swelled in Shadow Weaver’s chest, witnessing the act of her pupil’s strength was much more satisfying than seeing the aftermath. Adora approached her slowly, steps calculated, and arm beginning to shake. The dark lord struggled to breathe.

“You pinned us against each other for years! Abused her, abused me! You made her feel like she was nothing, like she needed your approval, and you never _ever_ planned to give it to her!”

The invisible grip on her neck tightened.

“You tried to make her into a monster, and she fought back every step of the way! She was so much stronger than either of us, and she beat you! She left you for dead! The only reason you’re still alive is because I showed you mercy!”

Adora was within arms reach now, eyes full of hatred and disgust. Shadow Weaver’s vision was going dark.

“I will not make the same mistake twice. This is for Catra!”

Adora ignited her blade and in the same moment, the grip on her neck released.

The dark lord fell to the floor, gasping for air and choking as she struggled to sit up in her cuffs. Adora backed away.

_This…This can’t be real._

Adora stood frozen in shock, her shoulder burning, and eyes locked on her weapon. Where her blade used to emanate a rich royal blue, now it was replaced with a deep crimson red.

The color of blood.

“No…no, no! What did you do to it?”

Panic surged through her as she rounded on her old mentor once again. Through her chokes for air, Adora heard a sick maniacal laughter.

“Adora…” Shadow Weaver wheezed out, “I have done nothing. What have _you_ done?”

Her eyes locked back onto her weapon, the blood red light making everything feel that much more horrific. How…How could this happen?

“I don’t…” Adora felt new tears start to spill out, “I didn’t mean to…” She couldn’t help but fall to her knees again, her lightsaber falling out of her grip and deactivating. She didn’t want to be here anymore. She didn’t want any of this.

“You bled your crystal,” Shadow Weaver stated, sitting opposite her. Her voice gentler than Adora ever remembered it being. “It happens when someone goes through immense suffering, pain, loss…”

As messed up as it was, Adora appreciated the blunt honest answer. She wasn’t used to those with the Jedi. “It’s a sign of the dark side, the Sith” She protested, “Your lightsaber…it was red too.”

“It’s just a color,” Shadow Weaver sat up against the wall, sighing.

She needed Adora to listen to her, not to kill her. She underestimated the darkness in her old pupil, she will not mess up again.

“You have lost Catra, just as I have lost someone dear to me,” she started, watching Adora tense up in front of her. “And I took my revenge on those who wronged me. But not without paying dearly for it.”

With great effort, Shadow Weaver lifted her hands to her mask, pulling it off her face. She looked at Adora, truly looked at her, with her own eyes – without a mask to decipher through.

Adora’s eyes widened. Her old mentor’s face was ravaged with old burns, the skin wrinkled and warped through its healing, one of her eyes a milky gray due to damage on her pupil.

“Lord Hordak took me in and healed me. Showed me the ways of the dark side and the Sith, but he and I do not share the same goals.” Shadow Weaver waited a long time for this, for Adora to be old enough, for her to possibly relate, to _understand_.

“I know you hold anger and hatred for me, and in ways I deserve your wrath. I tried to protect you from what I overcame. Keep you away from possible loss, but Catra…”

Adora’s eyes welled once again with tears.

“She changed everything. She challenged everything I worked for and hoped for. I saw her as a threat to your future, our future. And now, she is not here to mess things up anymore than she already has.”

“I told you –”

“Kill me after, I need you to hear this, Adora,” Shadow Weaver snapped, she felt so tired after everything. “Your destiny is not to become a Jedi and overthrow the Horde.”

“Your destiny is to bring _balance._ There cannot be dark without light, when one is too powerful the other rises to meet it. The Sith cannot eliminate the light, just as the Jedi cannot eliminate the dark. There needs to be balance.”

Adora’s expression was unreadable, and Shadow Weaver continued.

“Let me teach you –”

“No!” Adora sprung to her feet, backing away. “I will never learn the ways of the dark side!”

“You must, Adora!” Shadow Weaver used the wall to push herself up, “Look around you! Look at what happens when you only let in the light! The darkness builds and builds until it takes over. You must see that the teachings of the Jedi are too dogmatic!”

“So are the Sith’s teachings!”

“Precisely!”

Adora stumbled back, surprised that they agree on something.

“The Jedi teach you not to love, to not be human, while the Sith teach you to use hate, destroy your humanity piece by piece. Neither are the answer!” Shadow Weaver insisted.

Her old pupil met her eyes once again, uncertainty shimmering in her expression. A young girl who needs guidance once again.

Shadow Weaver would do it right this time.

“You’re asking me to be neither Sith or Jedi…but both? In the middle? How can I do that?”

“Let me teach you.”

In a bold gesture, Shadow Weaver offered up her hands, the question unspoken between the two.

Adora’s hands balled into fists, “How…How can I trust you again? After everything?”

“You do not have to trust me, we both know I have no intention to harm you. The worse this can go is with you slicing me in half.”

Anger flashed in those blue eyes, “The worse this can go is you manipulating me _again_ and turning me against the people care about.”

Shadow Weaver shook her head, “The rebels will never forgive you for all of this,” Adora looked around again, as if just remembering all the damage she caused. “The Jedi will sentence you to death or imprisonment. The Horde will believe you had General Catra killed, not to mention your defection months ago still on their minds.”

Adora met her eyes again, a hardened expression on her face.

“Neither side will take you back. The only option is to forge your own path.”

Adora held her hand out, pulling her discarded weapon back into her grip. “Then I will do it without you whispering in my ear and getting in my head.”

No, it isn’t supposed to go this way.

“Adora, you need more training, someone to teach you!”

“This changes none of the abuse you put Catra and I through! None of the awful things you’ve done under Hordak and the Horde! The people you’ve killed without a single thought or regard! The innocent lives taken!”

The anger was back, rippling through the air once more.

This was slipping out of control again.

“Haven’t you done the same? Look around you, Adora! You have nothing left! _No one_ left!”

Her young pupil stared down at the weapon in her hand, blood still soaking through her robes from her shoulder. Then Adora’s eyes met hers.

Shadow Weaver felt a shiver ripple through her, even with her connection to the force limited.

It was too late.

Adora had made her choice.

Shadow Weaver wasn’t enough. Not anymore. Her old cadet had already lost so much, _taken_ so much. What was one more?

“You made me into something,” Adora started, her words low and calculated, “You gave me a home, people I once saw as family. You took me in and showed me how to be strong. Taught me how to fight, how to use the force, how to wield a blade.”

Adora’s grip on her weapon tightened, but her gaze never broke, and her voice never wavered, “But you _never_ taught me how to be good. How to be compassionate, empathetic, and kind.”

Shadow Weaver sighed, “Why would I bother with such useless –”

Adora’s blade sprung to life, cutting off the dark lord as she flinched back.

“ _Catra_ taught me those things, because of what you put her through! The Jedi taught me how to use my power to help others, to not let emotions cloud my judgement, to try and be objective for the greater good. But I could never let my emotions go. I could never…”

A pause.

A moment.

A realization.

“I could never let her go.”

_Because I was in love with her._

_It was always her._

_Now she’s gone._

_You never told her._

Adora closed her eyes for a moment, holding back more tears and taking a deep breath.

_Breathe in._

She focused on the hum of her blade, the weight of it in her hand.

_You killed with this weapon. Innocent people. They weren’t innocent. They killed Catra._

She let herself feel the burn of the blaster bolt in her shoulder, how her muscles didn’t give in despite the pain.

_They shot first. You defended yourself. You slaughtered them like animals. Because they slaughtered Catra._

She opened her mind and heart to her surroundings.

_They executed her on the Queen’s orders. Queen Angella betrayed you. The Jedi must have known. Glimmer must have known. They all betrayed you._

Adora felt the despair of death she had caused, tainting the room as flames continued to burn around her.

_You should follow your Queen. Follow the Jedi order. You are one of them. Catra committed horrific crimes, execution was expected. Catra deserved better. She was a good person the victim of circumstance. The rebels and Jedi would have never seen it that way._

She felt the remnants of fear in the air as she had torn this prison apart, acting on instinct and anger and revenge.

_How many others had been executed and punished for trying to make the best of the hand their dealt? How many others were wronged by the Rebellion and denied a chance to redeem themselves? How many others were collateral damage from this pointless war? Wronged by both the Horde and the Rebellion? Forgotten and abused by both Jedi and Sith?_

Adora felt the desperation of her old mentor feet away from her, holding on to the hope that she would be spared once again.

_The Horde’s violence and corruption need to be stopped. But they bring stability and peace in some cases. The Rebellion brings equality and freedom. But only for those who survive the chaos and anarchy._

She let the Force enter her heart and guide her mind, feeling the chill of the dark side swirling around her. Not just from Shadow Weaver’s presence, but from herself and her actions. Images ran through her head: a rich blue lightsaber cutting down rebels while deflecting shot after shot, a hand using the force to choke someone she once saw as a mother, pain and betrayal reflected in beautiful yellow-blue eyes as she walked away, blaster shots ripping through the girl she loved before she fell out of view, falling into nothingness.

_The Rebels are disrupting what little peace certain people have, bringing uprising and panic along with their promises for freedom. If they lose, the natives suffer the consequences of the Horde. If they win, the natives suffer a life of uncertainty and poor regulation from a Republic unequipped to truly make change. The light side have made the rebels arrogant and blinded by righteous ideals._

A warmth built in her chest, the light side wrapping her up in its embrace. Memories passed by her in a blur: hugging and comforting a small feral magicat as she cried from another mistake in the training room, protecting an innocent village from falling to Horde tanks, gaining her first _real_ lightsaber and vowing to use it for the right reasons, friends and a warm place to call home, a comforting purr and warmth at her feet.

_The Horde takes advantage of any planet they claim to protect, bringing order sure, but at the cost of exploitation and slavery. With their empire in place, diversity and happiness is destroyed. People may survive and have peace, but they will never truly be living. The dark side has corrupted them, twisted them into manipulative killers and opportunists._

_What would Catra want?_

_What do you want?_

_Breathe out._

Adora opened her eyes, resolve taking over her body.

Then she swung.


	2. Grief - Catra

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for all the amazing comments and feedback!
> 
> Things will be a little angsty for a while, but I am a firm believer in happy endings, so bear with me and enjoy the ride!

Cold darkness.

Searing pain.

Screams.

Darkness again.

Bright light.

_Really_ bright.

“…can you hear me?”

A sharp intake of breath.

Pain.

“…okay! Relax, you’re okay…”

_Focus._

With much difficulty, she cracked her eyes and kept them open. Blurred features and muffled noises slowly came into perception.

“Try…gotta keep your eyes open.”

“Is…awake?”

She twitched her fingers, taking a deep breath to relax. The oxygen mask was unconformable, but the direct stream of oxygen was nice.

Her eyes felt so heavy.

Why did her hand feel so itchy?

“We aren’t…calibrating the wires…”

Everything felt hazy. She just wanted some water or something.

Maybe she should just close her eyes again…

“Catra!”

Suddenly everything snapped into focus.

Her heart started pounding, a machine blaring the matching _beep beep beep_ of her pulse. Her eyes were wide, examining her surroundings.

She was in a medical bay of some sort, wires hooked up into her left wrist, pumping fluids and gods know what else into her body.

_Where the hell am I?_

“Hey! Catra, stay calm! It’s alright…”

Her eyes landed on her left, meeting the purple eyes of the last person she expected to see on her death bed.

“…Glimmer…?”

“So, you do know my name,” the young Jedi huffed, still she looked…relieved?

Catra turned to the right, seeing two medical droids –

“We all didn’t think you would make it.” Catra’s attention snapped back to the fidgeting girl in front of her. She looked like she was bursting with questions which…so was she.

“Where am I? What happened?” Catra cursed the rasp in her voice, hating how weak her croaking sounded.

Glimmer looked solemn, her hesitation clear, “You’re in the Etheria system, on Brightmoon – in a medical wing of our base of operations. What’s the last thing you remember…?”

Catra cycled through her memories, her head aching at the effort.

Finally listening to Adora. Following the light in her heart. Surrendering to the Rebellion. Being held prisoner and awaiting judgement. Adora coming to transfer her, escort her to the Queen and Jedi for a hearing. The guards disagreeing. Under direct orders to keep her imprisoned until her scheduled execution. Then…

_“No, there must be some mistake! The Queen would never authorize this!”_

_“Release her into my custody, and I will take this up with the Queen myself.”_

_“As a Jedi Knight and advisor to Queen Angella, I command you delay this execution and relinquish your right to hold her in this camp!”_

_“Thank you, we’ll get this all sorted out, Sergeant. I’m sure you’ll be hearing from Queen Angella soon.”_

_“Wait, stand down! I command you to stand down!”_

_“No – Ahhh!”_

_“CATRA!”_

Catra was panting, eyes watering as the memories flashed back.

“It’s alright, you don’t –

“You shot her!” Catra cut off, “You idiots shot her!”

She didn’t want to be here, couldn’t be here. Not with these people who were supposed to be _better_.

“What are you talking about?” Glimmer stood up as Catra started struggling in the bed.

Pain radiated through every part of her body; she fell back against the bed with a scream of frustration and ripples of agony.

She looked around for a way out, looking to her right –

She froze.

Two medical droids were hovered over her arm, different needles and pinchers probing into her hand.

Her hand.

Where the skin of her wrist ended, wiring began. Circuits and cords meant to replace her nerves and muscles extended out from her wrist, leading into her fingers. The wiring was not covered yet, but the outside would be plated with sheets of flexible silver and chrome.

She could not feel it.

Could not move it.

Her claws were gone.

Her flesh and blood gone.

Her sense of touch gone.

The fight left her body.

She hadn’t realized she was crying until she heard a tear drop hit her patient robes.

Catra looked back at Glimmer, a familiar sense of anger building in her chest.

“Where’s Adora? She has some explaining to do having me surrender to your sorry club of rainbows and objectivity, only to have me almost executed and killed! Why the hell would you rebels shoot her? You got the point across, you want me dead, big shocker! Why bring me here then? Why save me?”

Glimmer was shaking her head, confusion and anger written all over her face, “Executed? We were trying to give you a second chance until you went all berserk on our prison cell and killed all our people! What did _you_ do with Adora?!”

“What the hell are you going on about, Sparkles?” Catra was ready to just let loose with the Force to get out of here, but she wasn’t sure how many Jedi were around. Or where her lightsaber was. Or where she was, actually, “Just bring Adora in here, I’m sick of seeing your face!”

“Adora is gone!” Glimmer exploded. Huh, weren’t Jedi supposed to control that?

Still the revelation was enough to make Catra stand down a bit.

“Gone? What do you mean gone? She was at that stupid prison trying to get me out of there when _your_ rebels refused! Talking about how the Queen ordered my execution and they wouldn’t disobey direct orders! Then, when they finally let me go with Adora, they opened fire on us with our backs turned. They shot Adora, and then I just…”

For the first time, Catra looked down at her body. How many times had she been shot? Three? Four? And that damn cliff…she had fallen.

“How am I alive? I…I should be dead…”

Glimmer seemed to be processing everything. She blinked a few times, “As much as you have been a pain in the ass and a serious threat to our cause…Adora was right. You’re strong in the Force. I don’t know how you didn’t die. Willpower? Spite? Whatever it is, the Force was merciful enough to keep you alive until we arrived and found you. You landed in a river and flowed downstream and…something drew me to you.”

The Jedi took a deep breath, sagging in her seat as she rubbed her temples. “You were never ordered to be executed, that doesn’t make any sense. My mother would never do that, she had faith in Adora’s opinion of you. We all did.”

Catra didn’t know how to respond to any of that really. What the hell had happened to make everything so messed up?

“If our soldiers turned on you then… _oh gods_ …” Glimmer trailed off, but Catra could already sense where her head was at. She was almost too scared to ask.

“Did they… Adora…?” Catra’s voice broke.

This wasn’t supposed to happen, not for her.

Glimmer looked up, tears in her eyes. “Catra…the whole prison was burned to the ground…charred bodies everywhere…everything destroyed…you were the only survivor we found.”

A pain settled in her heart so deep, she couldn’t put it into words even if she wanted to.

“No…no she can’t be dead…I can’t…” Catra didn’t try to hide the sobs that took over.

Glimmer stood from her chair, turning her back to Catra with her fists clenched. The Jedi was taking deep breaths, but Catra could sense her pain, her confusion, her anger. Trying to control these feelings did nothing.

“Adora…she’s alive…” Catra started, her voice breaking, “She has to be! We just need…we need to go find her!”

Glimmer shook her head, refusing to address the crying girl directly, “Almost everything was ash by the time we arrived…even if we scoured every inch of the rubble, the bodies…it’s impossible to tell if…which one…”

Catra closed her eyes, tears streaming down her face.

“But how…? Who…?”

Adora was _gone._

“We don’t know, but we’re going to find out. We’re going to get _justice_.”

Because of _her_.

“Catra, its going to be alright. We’ll figure it out –”

“ _Figure it out?_ The Horde is growing more powerful by the day, and with my defection they’ll be out for blood! The Rebellion won’t survive, none of us will survive without her! Without Adora…I…”

Catra felt like her insides were being twisted, her heart wrenching at the realization that Adora died for _nothing_. Adora had a purpose, a destiny, and Catra had spent every waking moment making her life miserable because of what? Hurt feelings? Regret? Abandonment?

Adora deserved better then to die protecting someone like _her._

She deserved a hero’s death.

No.

She deserved a hero’s life.

Adora deserved happiness, and laughter, and sunrises. She deserved peace, and balance, and hope.

Catra ruined all of it.

If only she –

“Okay this needs to stop right now!” Glimmer exploded, turning back to Catra with a fire in her eyes.

“All this self-pity and depression doesn’t suit you, and Adora wouldn’t want this!” Glimmer started pacing, and Catra could not help but shrink at the words. “You left the Horde and your life behind because you realized the Horde doesn’t really care about its people and its soldiers. Adora believed there was good in you, and you must see it in yourself. We might have lost Adora but Catra…”

Glimmer sat down again, meeting the magicat’s gaze.

“We have you now.”

Catra was already shaking her head, “No…I…I’m not like Adora…I –”

“You don’t need to be like Adora to help us defeat the Horde. The Jedi Order’s power is declining every day, we need more people… _good_ people to help. And I think this is where you were meant to be.”

“I’m no Jedi. I use my emotions, and it makes me _strong_. And I enjoy the power I feel; I enjoy being in control. Your ways…I don’t think I could follow.”

“That’s okay. We can work on it; we can train you and help you –”

“I don’t want your help!”

Catra’s fist clenched, her grief quickly turning into anger. The tension in her body intensified the thrumming of her pain, and she closed her eyes as she tried to calm herself.

This isn’t what she wanted.

To join the Rebellion without Adora?

_Would Adora want this?_

_Would this honor her memory?_

“Just think about it?” Glimmer’s voice softened. “It will probably take a few weeks at least to get back on your feet and you’re more than welcome to stay here in Brightmoon while you recover.”

Glimmer paused, and Catra met her eyes.

“You’ve…you’ve done a lot of harm to us. To me and my friends. I held a lot of anger towards you. I guess I still do, but…once you’re up for it…the Rebellion and the Jedi would be honored to have you. Forget about all the stuff in the past…we’re going to have to find a way to move forward.”

How could she just “move forward”?

Glimmer stood up, approaching the door in measured steps. When she reached the door, the young Jedi looked back one last time.

“If not for Adora and the betterment of the galaxy…do it for yourself.”

And then Glimmer was gone, leaving Catra with the medical droids and her swirling emotions.

Exhaustion hit Catra full force, and she let herself fall further into the bed. As her body relaxed, she allowed her mind to process all that had happened.

Outside Catra’s door, Glimmer could hear all the wrecked sobs coming from the broken ex-Horde soldier.

She let her own tears fall silently.

Nothing would ever be the same again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> Get ready for a ton of plot and politics coming your way. It isn't a Star Wars story without either, after all.


	3. Forward - Adora

Adora never thought she’d return to the planet of Thaymor.

It was poetic really – returning to the place where it started.

She didn’t really know where else to go.

The last time she was here, it was to fight against Horde tanks. She had tapped into her raw connection with the Force and controlled it for the first time. She had helped Glimmer and Bow defeat the invasion Force almost all on their own.

It was where she left Catra.

Now, it was a planet under constant change.

The Horde had taken over soon after Adora’s efforts. And then the Rebellion had sent General Spinnerella and General Netossa to reclaim it once more.

Adora didn’t know why, but she needed to come here.

“- hate doing business on this dreadful planet. The battles destroyed most of the farms, now there isn’t enough grain…”

“- here to figure out how to get my parents off this rock. Those rebels shut down the cotton factories and my father lost his job…”

“- attending my brother’s funeral…when the Horde came, they drafted him into their army…”

Adora zoned in and out of the conversations around her, pulling her cloak closer to her body. Public transportation was never glamorous, but it was easy to blend in and gather information.

She left her ship behind at the prison cell on Utapau anyway.

 Adora rolled her shoulder, the familiar ache making her feel uncomfortable. Probably one more month until that went away, but it had already been five weeks. Considering the circumstances, it could have healed much worse.

The noise of the engine slowing pulled Adora from her thoughts, and she felt their altitude decreasing. Already people were beginning to stir from their tables and seats, gathering their items and approaching the bay doors.

Adora followed suit and stood, grabbing her small duffle bag and taking stock she had all her belongings. As she stood, she felt the friction of her lightsaber hilts in either of her boots, as well as the weight of her belt and holster.

She couldn’t risk being recognized as a lightsaber wielder.

Within minutes she was departing from the transport and onto the planet in a landing zone. Fields spread as far as the eye could see, most of them charred and desolate of vegetation. In the distance smoke was rising from the nearest village.

What better place to start?

She headed off towards the village along with most of her fellow passengers. It didn’t take long for her to figure out why she was drawn here.

At the entrance of the village was a checkpoint. Huge pillars adorned with speakers and lights stood on either side of the checkpoint. Adora immediately recognized the tan and blue colors of the rebel soldiers who were conducting searches of individuals.

Adora approached along with everyone else, calming her breathing as she calculated her options. She entered a huge line of people, most of whom were huffing and complaining.

A loud crackle filled the air as a speaker blared to life, “Visitors of Thaymor, we welcome you! Be prepared for proper inspections and security checks for the safety of all inhabitants! A small tax of twenty-five credits will be collected upon arrival, thank you for your generosity in supporting the New Republic!”

Adora huffed. She never knew the Rebellion to collect entry fees of villages. And twenty-five credits? That was just plain robbery.

About a couple yards away from the checkpoint, Adora noticed a small child in front of her. She was dressed mostly in rags and couldn’t have been more than eleven years old. Adora could feel her anxiety emanating off her in waves. There didn’t seem to be any adult interested in her, and a pang of sadness hit her at the thought of her being alone.

Adora subtly and slowly pushed through the large group of people until she stood beside the young girl. Up close Adora saw the girl bouncing from foot to foot, looking off in the distance. She jumped when one of the soldiers up ahead screamed, “Next!”

“You seem nervous…” Adora stated softly, attempting not to startle the girl more than she was already spooked.

The girl’s eyes jumped to Adora, trying to decipher if this stranger under the hood was friend or foe. She seemed to debate for a moment, and with a deep breath water filled her brown eyes.

“I don’t have any more money.” The girl stated, “I spent it all on the transport here, I didn’t realize…” Her voice broke as she held back tears.

Adora bent down to the girl’s level, “What’s your name?”

“Relka…”

“Well, Relka, I hear that warriors of the Rebellion are very kind. I’m sure that they’ll understand if you don’t have any money to donate.”

Relka sniffled, “But what if they don’t? My uncle is expecting me and if I can’t get in, he’ll be very worried.”

Adora gave her most comforting smile, “Don’t worry, you’ll make it in. I promise.”

“Next!”

With trepidation, Relka realized it was her turn. Her eyes filled with fear, but Adora nodded and pushed her along, “Go on, it’ll turn out okay.”

As Relka approached soldier, he held out his hand, “Entry fee?”

“I’m sorry sir, but I don’t have any –”

“No entry fee, no entry.”

“My uncle is in the village, I’m sure he could –”

“No entry fee, no entry. Move along!”

Adora growled, stepping forward, “She’s just a child trying to get to her family, I’m sure you could make an exception.”

The soldier eyed Adora up and down, “And who are you? Her guardian?”

“No but –”

“Then this is no concern of yours,” The soldier turned back to Relka, “Kid, if you don’t leave, I’m going to have to escort you out. No entry fee, no entry.”

Adora’s fists clenched, her anger building, “What exactly is this tax contributing to?”

The soldier sighed, “The resources necessary to protect and serve this community under the New Republic –”

“The Rebellion doesn’t charge _entry fees_ for individual villages, let alone for as much as twenty-five credits; you and I both know this isn’t right.”

At this rate, the other soldiers’ attentions were beginning to focus on Adora, the lines of people getting more impatient. Some of them seemed to be listening to the debate with interest.

“This one causing you problems, Clark?” Another soldier approached, but Adora kept her focus on the first soldier – Clark.

“Clark was just finishing up with us.” Adora channeled the Force, pulling it from around her and into her fingers at her side, directing its energy toward the crooked soldier, “We _are_ allowed entry, no charge and no search.”

Clark’s eyes misted over for a fraction of a second, unnoticeable to anyone who didn’t know what was happening. “Yes of course, they are cleared for entry.”

Clark stepped aside, waving Adora and Relka through the gate. Relka stared at Adora in awe as the two walked through quickly, entering the village with no further problems.

After creating some distance between the checkpoint and themselves, Relka couldn’t contain herself. The two stopped outside a nearby shop, people bustling around them and the smell of food traveling through the air.

“That was amazing! That guy was such a jerk, but you stepped in a told him off and he just let us in! How did you _do_ that? Who are you?”

For the first time in a while Adora felt amusement, “I didn’t do anything special. Just luck, I suppose.”

Relka seemed wholly unconvinced. “I think you used magic!”

A genuine laugh bubbled in Adora’s throat, “Magic, huh? I don’t know anything about magic, do you?”

The young girl thought hard for a moment, “I don’t know much, but my uncle will! Will you come with me to find him? Please?”

Adora’s smile fell, “No, I don’t think so, Relka. I have to –”

“Please? Just for a little? I’m sure he’ll want to thank you for helping me, and he’s a great cook!”

Adora hesitated a moment. She was pretty hungry after all, and a meal sounded nice. It couldn’t harm anything.

“Alright, but only if your uncle allows it!”

Relka jumped in victory with the brightest smile, grabbing Adora’s arm and tugging her through the village. Her shoulder ached, but she didn’t have the heart to pull away from the girl.

“What’s your name? You know mine, but I never learned yours.”

Adora glanced around as she was being led, looking for some sort of idea. She couldn’t use her real name. She hated lying, but it was a necessary evil.

Everything around her was in an alphabet she didn’t recognize, her eyes struggling to decipher the symbols. Her eyes locked on a sign as they passed.

“Uh…my name is…She…” Gods, that already sounded so stupid.

Catra would cry with laughter if she heard this.

_Catra._

_Hmmm…Cat-Ra._

“…Ra…my name is She-Ra.”

If Relka heard her hesitation, she showed no sign – probably too distracted with her excitement.

“She-Ra,” Relka repeated, “It’s pretty. I like it.”


	4. Change - Catra

Catra ducked, spinning as a swing missed.

She sensed another swing coming from behind and side-stepped, the staff swirling past her face by inches.

She lifted her hand on instinct, a clash echoing as her staff collided with Glimmer’s. In the same second, another staff whirled toward her feet and Catra jumped to avoid the contact.

She spun over Glimmer, their weapons separating for a second before she brought her staff down as she landed.

Glimmer almost missed the parry trying to keep her eye on the magicat, but the Jedi recovered quickly.

Catra took the initiative, sensing her opponents distracted by her display. She darted towards Mermista, seeking retribution from her previous attempt to attack her from behind.

In a flurry of swings the two staffs collided, Mermista managing to match Catra’s quick footwork and fancy angles – but only barely.

Catra enjoyed showing up the Jedi honestly.

Lately, it had been the only thing keeping her afloat.

In a bold move, Catra slid under Mermista’s next swing, sweeping the Jedi off her feet as Catra’s staff followed through. Mermista’s back hit the mat with a groan of displeasure.

Once again, Catra lifted her staff behind her back, parrying another blow from behind. She twisted her body around, keeping the staffs interlocked, and coming face to face with Perfuma.

The two held the stalemate for a second, pushing against each other as the staffs shook with effort. Perfuma’s face held grim determination, but Catra noticed the way the Jedi’s eyes focused on something behind the magicat.

Catra broke the contact, diving to the left as a staff whizzed through where she had stood moments before.

A resounding _WHACK_ of wood against flesh wrung out, followed by, “OW! Glimmer!”

“Sorry, Perfuma!”

Catra spun around and took her opportunity as the two Jedi lost their focus. Using the length of her staff, she gripped it by the middle, spinning it through her hands as she charged.

One end of her staff met Perfuma’s leg, the limb giving out as she fell to her knees. The other end slammed Glimmer square in the gut, knocking the wind out of her as she fell on her back.

Catra squared up, panting as she looked around.

Mermista still laid on the floor, seemingly irritated at having been tripped and very disinterested in continuing.

Perfuma was gripping her ribs – probably where Glimmer had accidently struck her – but the Jedi had dropped her staff, staying on her knees.

And Glimmer was trying to catch her breath, huffing on the floor, as she stared at the celling.

Catra relaxed her stance, wiping the sweat from her face with her shirt.

These Jedi hardly put up a fight, it was sad honestly.

Adora could always give her a challenge.

A pang settled in her heart at the thought, and without a word she dropped the staff and headed for the door. She grabbed a water on her way out, hearing Glimmer wheeze out, “Yeah, let’s take a break.”

Catra gulped down her water, trying to dislodge the lump forming in her throat. She knew it would be no use either way.

She kept drinking as she made her way through the base, passing soldiers as she went. Most had accepted her presence, many of them knowing her name and not her face helped to make them forgive and forget her previous crimes. Still, others would sneer and give her dirty looks if she focused enough.

With her adrenaline dying down, she felt the ache in her muscles from her efforts. Her wounds still held phantom burns sometimes, especially when she exerted herself. She lifted her gloved right hand, flexing her fingers and testing its response.

The hand was the hardest thing to get used to.

Trusting in machinery to follow her brain was difficult at first, but her new limb had yet to give her any problems. She was just thankful that it wasn’t her dominant hand.

She’s had five months to adjust anyway, she was proud of the progress she was making.

All things considered at least.

Catra made her way to her room, making lefts and rights through the base she had grown familiar with.

She approached the door, typing in her favorite number into the key-pad, and entering as it opened for her. She finished her water and let out a sigh as the door closed behind her.

Sometimes she wondered what she was even doing.

_Changing your shirt, you smell awful!_

Catra could almost hear Adora’s voice.

Gods, she missed her.

Catra huffed as she realized she was crying. How many more times would she shed tears over her?

_Probably the rest of your life._

The magicat yanked her elastic training shirt over her head, wiping away her tears with it as she bundled it up and threw it in the direction of a laundry basket. She grabbed her robes instead, not feeling up for anymore sparring.

In the bathroom, Catra looked in the mirror, assessing her old wounds. Now they looked like circles of burnt flesh, about a couple inches wide.

One grazed her left shoulder.

One clipped the tip of her right ear.

One nearly burned through her left thigh.

One demolished her right hand.

The worst one had nailed her right beneath her sternum – the force of it had broken three ribs and burned her straight to the bone, nearly impairing her lungs.

Sometimes she still couldn’t breathe when she looked at it.

She had a couple bruises scattered around from the sparring, but other than that everything looked good.

Catra dressed quickly, slipping on the familiar robes and tying everything together. When she had told Queen Angella she wished to try and learn the Jedi ways, one of the Queen's first questions was about color of clothes and what kind of robes Catra wanted.

Catra had nearly scoffed at the question. Why prioritize clothing preferences? She couldn’t see color too well anyway so why did it matter?

But now…now she was thankful she had been given a choice.

Normally Catra preferred reds – those were easiest for her to decipher after all – but red was hardly her favorite color.

Catra glanced in the mirror one more time, content with how she looked.

Dark smoky grey wrapped around her figure, tied together with a black utility belt and embellished with a lighter shade of grey where it mattered.

Catra couldn’t see it for herself, but she knew the lighter shade of grey was her favorite color.

The color of Adora’s eyes.

A knock sounded on Catra’s door, breaking her from her thoughts. She could never get alone time here, could she?

She opened her door with a growl, ready to tell off whoever decided to interrupt her, but things never seemed to go her way.

“Kitty!” Without even a moment to process or protest, Catra was picked up in a bone-crushing hug, effectively leaving her breathless.

“Glimmer said you seemed upset today after training, so I came to check on you!” Scorpia finally released the magicat, who dusted herself off as she caught her breath.

“How many times have we talked about personal space?” Catra huffed, rubbing the now tender wound on her chest.

“Oh Catra, you can pretend all you want how ‘rough’ and ‘tough’ you are, but I know the truth!” Scorpia dramatically looked Catra up and down, using her claws to spin the disgruntled magicat around as she examined her. “You look well! Hmm…Perfuma said you did great today and I don’t see any injuries, so why is my wildcat upset?”

“Scorpia, I’m fine,” Catra pushed away the probing claws, huffing at her ridiculousness. While Scorpia did often get on her nerves, Catra doesn’t know what she would do without her.

When the ex-Second in Command of the Horde confided in Scorpia her doubts about Hordak and her plans to possibly defect, Scorpia had listened and followed her without a shred of hesitation. If not for Scorpia’s support, Catra probably would have never followed through with abandoning the Horde to begin with.

Scorpia was no leader, but she was a great fighter when her heart was in it. The Jedi had pardoned them both with their changed allegiance to their Order. Unlike Catra, Scorpia had taken quite well to the methodology of the Jedi rather than the fighting techniques. She was always more useful with the Force and brute strength – she did have difficulty holding a lightsaber after all.

“Are you sure? Because the others –”

“I said, I’m fine!”

Scorpia paused nodding a few times, “Okay.”

She pushed passed Catra into her room and began collecting blankets.

“Oh, gods. Not again –”

She was cut off by blankets being thrown around her, wrapping tightly around her body as she began struggling under the cloths. Her body was lifted off the ground and carried toward the bed.

“Scorpia –!”

“There, there. It’s going to be okay, just relax…” Scorpia wrapped the sheets tighter, bundling up the magicat as she struggled to pop her head out. At this rate, Catra had given up, letting her body go slack in exasperation as Scorpia made her into a blanket burrito.

“Is this going to happen every single time I’m not in the mood to talk?”

Scorpia hummed in agreement, a determined smile on her face as her pinchers cuddled the burrito into her. Catra sighted, letting the blankets and Scorpia’s strength cuddle her to death with warmth and affection.

She appreciated it in a way.

But mostly hated it.

She didn’t like being restricted and handled, but the warmth wasn’t too bad.

“Ready to tell me what’s bothering you now?”

Catra didn’t respond right away. The last thing she wanted was to talk about Adora… _again_. And cry… _again._

It wasn’t even like it was new but…living in a universe without Adora was just…the worst absolute feeling in the world.

“I wish it had been me,” Catra said suddenly. She surprised herself honestly, but Scorpia met her gaze with encouragement, waiting for her to continue.

Catra closed her eyes, her ears drooping as she held back tears again.

“I wake up everyday and have to remember that she’s gone. I train with her friends and fight with her people and I’m _trying_ to learn what she did – to understand, but I just can’t!”

Scorpia’s pincher absentmindedly stroked the blankets over the magicat, “I thought things were going well? You’ve been great with sparring and techniques…is this about the Force stuff? Your sessions with Perfuma and Razz?”

Catra didn’t want to talk anymore. But how else was she going to get out of the burrito?

“They tell me to control my emotions, to let myself feel them but to not be overwhelmed. But when I try and meditate and connect with the Force like they tell me, it’s just too much! It’s full of _her_ , of us, my mistakes, and everything _feels_ like too much!”

Catra shoved herself into the cocoon of blankets, burying her face into the sheets to hide her weakness. But she kept talking, after all she had already started. Why not finish?

“Jedi can’t cry, Jedi can’t love, Jedi can’t be proud, Jedi can’t be ambitious, Jedi can’t be afraid, there’s just so many _rules_. How do I just not feel emotions? How can they ask me to do that?”

Scorpia was quite for a moment before she sighed, “If you think all that stuff is wrong and stupid, then why are you here? Why are you learning something you don’t believe in?”

_For Adora._

_For the galaxy._

_For herself._

“I don’t know,” Catra trailed off. Where else would she go? Who else would she be?

“I’ll tell you what I think,” Scorpia started, “They treat us nice here. Great food, private beds, no one constantly belittling us and threatening our lives. It’s peaceful here, and we have a chance to bring some good in the galaxy. But I’m here first and foremost for you.”

Catra didn’t know what she did to deserve someone like Scorpia on her side, but she thanked the Force for it.

“If you want to leave, then I’ll be right behind you,” Scorpia continued, “But I think the Jedi can help. They don’t expect you to be perfect, and their ways may be a little extreme, but they need you. I think they’ll be willing to have you no matter what so long as you use your talents for good things.”

Catra took a deep breath, letting her friend’s words wash over her. “You’re right, Scorpia.”

Scorpia beamed at her, her grip finally loosening. Catra made her way out of the burrito, sitting on the bed and keeping the blankets around her shoulders.

“Thank you, I needed this.”

Scorpia wrapped her arm around the smaller woman, “Anything for you, Wildcat.”

Another knock sounded on the door.

Catra detangled herself from her friend and the blankets, straightening out her robes as she opened the door.

“Hey, Glitter.”

The purple-haired Jedi rolled her eyes, looking regal as ever with her tan and purple-embellished robes. “Catra. Queen Angella is requesting an audience with the council.”

“You know you can call her your mother in front of me, it’s not some secret.”

Glimmer’s eyes narrowed, “My _mother_ is requesting an audience, so we have to be there on time. It’s your first presence as a Jedi Knight, so we have to make sure you give a good impression.”

Catra glanced at her claws, flexing them, “Will your apprentice be there?”

“Frosta is too young to attend the meetings, she’s just a Padawan.” Glimmer shook her head, “Why is this relevant?”

“Just wondering how many children I’ll have to put up with. Besides you of course.”

Glimmer huffed, grabbing the magicat’s arm and dragging her along. “Hi, Scorpia.” She greeted as Scorpia emerged from the room, following them.

“Hi, Glimmer! How are you?”

“A little sore and irritated but other than that, I’m peachy.”

“Good to hear. I had a great breakfast this morning, they made these little…”

Catra pulled her arm away from the Jedi, tuning out their pointless conversation as the three of them made their way to the war chambers.

A council meeting. She had never been invited to those before.

The trio exited the training and housing barracks, crossing the landing zone to make their way to the Queen’s Hall. Soldiers blurred by them, all with their own tasks and training. Different ships were landing and taking off, some full of troops, others full of supplies.

There weren’t many Jedi left.

Just the council and relics of the past brought together thanks to Queen Angella and the Rebellion. Most of the Jedi were just kids or barely adults. The rest were old-fashioned and too methodical, if you asked Catra. All the others had been slaughtered after Light Spinner – or Shadow Weaver – had betrayed them decades ago; swayed by the dark side and Lord Hordak.

Catra wished she had known the truth before. Perhaps Adora had tried to warn her time and time again. Catra just hadn’t been willing to listen.

“Did you hear me, Catra?” Glimmer paused in front of the stairs ascending into the Queen’s hall, the group coming to a stop.

“Huh? Sure, yeah breakfast was great.”

Glimmer groaned, “I swear, you never listen to a word I say.”

She shrugged. That wasn’t her problem, now was it?

“You need to take this seriously,” Glimmer stepped closer, giving Catra no choice but to focus on the young Jedi. “My mom is going to ask about your training, and Master Razz is going to tell her how you’ve made _no_ progress in committing to the Jedi ways.”

“But she’s done amazing in combat training and wielding!” Scorpia piped up, at which Glimmer sighed.

“Your skills with technique are highly advanced and your senses in combat are well-attuned, but that doesn’t consider the connection you have mentally with the Force! That’s the most important thing in a Jedi’s training; to be balanced and at peace.”

“Are you?”

The question caught Glimmer off-guard.

Catra prodded again, “Are you ‘balanced and at peace’?”

Gimmer looked away, taking a few steps back from the magicat. “Not right now, no. But its always something a Jedi strives for, _works_ for. Perfuma tells me you don’t even seem to try.”

“I _do_ try, but I can’t…it just isn’t working for me.” Catra knew that was no excuse, but she didn’t expect Glimmer to understand anyway.

Catra felt a heavy weight on her shoulder, turning to see Scorpia. “It isn’t something that just happens, Catra. It takes effort and work, and it comes and goes. The point is just to be trying to keep your feelings and actions balanced within the Force. That’s all the Jedi want from you.”

When did her friend become so wise? Months of meditation and Force training does that to a person, supposedly.

“I was just trying to warn you that Master Razz and my mother may go a bit hard on you.” Glimmer tried again. “They’re expecting you to turn a new leaf – pardoning the Horde’s Second in Command and her Lieutenant is no small feat. They need to make sure their faith is in the right place.”

“What if it’s not?” Catra wasn’t used to this kind of pressure. She was good at being the best fighter, the best strategist. Being judged on her mental health and good intentions? Not so much.

Glimmer’s eyes softened for a moment, and Catra was reminded of the day she woke up alone in a hospital bed. “Scorpia, do you mind going in and saving us seats?”

“Sure thing!” Scorpia left with a bright smile, running up the steps and leaving the old rivals alone.

“Catra…” The purple-haired Jedi paused, picking her words carefully, “My mother believes in you because I believe in you. And I believe in you because…Adora thought the world of you.”

Catra’s heart nearly slowed to a stop, but she met the Jedi’s purple eyes evenly. “I…I thought the world of her, too.”

Glimmer nodded, her eyes watering, “I know.”

“I don’t think I could ever let her go.”

A pause. “Me either.”

Surprise, disbelief, anger, jealousy. These emotions were not at all what Catra felt in that moment. Under different circumstances, perhaps, but here, now?

“What a pair of Jedi we make,” Catra swallowed past the new lump in her throat, “Attachment, love, and compassion all walk thin lines.”

Glimmer gave a small smile in response, “Adora was the ‘chosen one’ and she walked the lines too.”

“Why are you telling me all this?”

Glimmer’s gaze looked up the stairs, “The Jedi Code, all the rules and warnings…they’re true and we have to try our best to follow them. But if Adora taught me anything, it was that some rules are meant to be broken. And she learned that from you.”

For the first time in months Catra felt a smile pulling at her lips. There may have been an ache in her heart and water in her eyes, but it was a small step in the right direction.


	5. Coping - Adora

Adora shot up from her bed, screams echoing in her mind.

Her breaths came out ragged and she struggled to get enough air in her lungs.

It was just a dream.

Just a dream.

She pulled her knees up to her chest, as her breaths finally began to even out. Her body and hair were clammy with sweat and she felt hot all over, but inside she felt nothing but cold.

“Are you okay?”

Adora jumped at the voice, relaxing as she turned and saw Relka pushing the curtain leading to her makeshift room aside.

“Yeah,” Adora got out, “Just a bad dream.”

Relka took her answer as an invitation to enter, hesitantly approaching Adora’s bed.

“You have those an awful lot,” Relka sat beside Adora on her bed, and Adora felt herself relaxing further at the girl’s presence.

“I’m sorry if I woke you again,” Adora started. She’s been staying with Relka and Tez for a couple of weeks now, but she couldn’t help but feel like her baggage was dragging them down. Even if she was trying to help them.

“I was already awake. I have bad dreams too, sometimes.”

Often Adora had trouble keeping her senses from invading upon others, but she also was too curious to really stop herself.

“About your parents?” Adora asked quietly.

Relka blinked up at Adora, her nose scrunching. “You always know somehow.”

“Magic, remember?”

Relka didn’t smile like she normally did. Adora nudged her, “Dreams can’t hurt you. They aren’t real. It’s just your mind trying to help you deal with things, even when it might be scary and painful.”

“What are your dreams about?”

Adora swallowed thickly, not quite sure if she was willing to relive the images and scenes haunting her mind. She relived them often enough when she slept, hell…they haunted her awake too.

“Nothing you need to worry your little head over,” Adora relaxed her knees, pulling her blanket out from under her and wrapping it around the two of them.

“But you always know what bothers me and how to help. I want to help you, too.” Relka looked up at Adora, eyes full of such innocence and hope.

“You help plenty. You and your uncle. Giving me a place to eat and sleep. Being here for me. There isn’t anything else I could ask from you.”

“But you’re not happy,” Relka looked away, seemingly deep in thought, “Even when the woman in the mask tore down the checkpoint. You didn’t celebrate with us in the village.”

Adora didn’t know how to respond. This young girl before her was very intuitive and wise beyond her years. Having lost her parents to the war and finding her way home across the galaxy by herself took a toll. Yet she still reserved space for her childhood optimism.

“Well…the woman in the mask had to kill some people in order to help the village,” Adora stated slowly, “Isn’t that sad? Should we celebrate that?”

Relka didn’t answer right away. Adora didn’t mean to stump her, but she really had no one else to talk to about her troubles.

“Sometimes people have to die for it to be better,” Relka scooted closer to Adora under the blanket, snuggling into the older girl. “Like my parents. And your Catra.”

Adora’s whole body froze.

“You say her name in your sleep,” Relka continued, “You have a lot of nightmares about her. She must have been special.”

Adora didn’t even know she was crying until Relka used the blanket to wipe at her face.

It had just been so long since she heard that name.

She only ever used it in her head.

Talking about Catra too much…thinking about Catra too much took Adora to a dark place. A place she didn’t know how to control.

“She was,” Adora answered off-handedly, “But she’s gone now. I’m not sure if things can get better.”

Relka settled into Adora’s side once more, “I think it can. When we lose people, they aren’t really _gone_. Uncle says that it’s our job to live on for them, we have to honor their memory.”

Adora hugged Relka to her, taking comfort while she could.

“I’m trying to.”

The two fell into a peaceful silence for a moment, broken only by Relka sniffling.

“Is your nose still running?” Adora inquired.

The girl nodded, “My throat’s feeling sore too.”

“Well tomorrow after I’m done helping your uncle in the fields, I’ll be sure to drop by Krysta’s and ask her from some herbs.” Adora squeezed a little tighter, “Maybe we can convince your uncle to make some of that delicious soup, too.”

Relka nodded excitedly, and the two girls finally separated, “Can I sleep with you tonight? I want to help fight the nightmares.”

Adora smiled at this incredible soul before her, her eyes watering, “Of course. But, don’t tell Tez I kept you up all night with a sleepover.”

“It’ll be our secret,” Relka’s smile was beaming. Adora pulled the blankets around them as they laid down together.

Before long, Adora felt the girl’s mind ease and her body relax. She tried to let Relka’s presence lull her to sleep, though it made her mind wander to a different time.

With a different person pressed against her.

She stayed awake until the early rays of sun shone through the curtain, and her day began.


	6. Beginning - Catra

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading the story so far! All of your comments have been amazing to read, and I enjoy all the feedback. Get ready to dig into more plot!

Catra spun the hilt slowly in her hands, not quite believing it was hers.

She picked out the crystal and the pieces. She used the Force to put it together herself.

She spent a week and a half building it.

Yet, Catra struggled to believe she created something this special.

Sleek, shiny chrome and silver mixed along the hilt of her lightsaber; the base ribbed with rubber for grip. It matched the chrome and silver plating of her hand.

The weight balanced much nicer in her grasp. Her last lightsaber – given to her reluctantly by Shadow Weaver – had been heavier, bulkier.

It had been meant for Adora.

But this one was _hers_.

“We should be reaching Thaymor in about an hour,” Bow announced as he exited the cockpit and entered the common space. Now that they were in hyper-speed, Seahawk could handle piloting without the technician’s help.

Glimmer thanked him, going back to reading over reports and documents sent to the Queen by Thaymor’s Senator. They were heading to Thaymor in response to some unrest among several villages and cities, many of which were actively protesting and rising against Rebellion forces.

Most of the incidents have resulted in numerous casualties and destruction of Rebellion resources. Catra thought it was redundant to fight against a Republic attempting to help, especially after the planet had survived the Horde’s treatment.

The Queen is anticipating further violence, maybe even attempts to harm the Senator if these anarchists find an opportunity. Catra tried to pay attention during the debriefing, especially since they allowed her to take the next step in her Jedi duties despite her difficulties in meditation.

“You excited for our first mission in the field?” Scorpia tore Catra from her thoughts, nudging the magicat enthusiastically.

“You have no idea,” Catra admired her weapon one last time before clipping it back to her belt, “I’ve been waiting to get off that base for ages.”

“It’s good to be eager, but don’t lose focus of our goal here,” Glimmer piped up, handing Bow all the paperwork. “The council has instructed us to only investigate and protect the Senator if need be. We are _not_ to antagonize any locals or protestors, got it?”

Scorpia gave a mock salute, and Catra couldn’t help but shake her head at her antics.

Glimmer suddenly appeared right beside Catra, eyebrows raised expectantly.

The magicat held her hands up, “I get it, jeez! You are the wise Jedi here, I am but a lowly Padawan following your example.”

Glimmer huffed, but Catra noticed the Jedi’s lips pulled up in the beginning of a smile.

If someone had told Catra half a year ago that she would become decent friends with Jedi Knight Shimmer – the master of hard-headed, self-righteous, and pretentious morals all bundled up in sickening pink and purple with glitter on the side (not to mention the person who stole Adora away) – well…Catra probably would have butchered them.

“I for one think this may actually go well,” Bow reorganized the paperwork, filing it back into the binder on the desk. “If we can set up negotiations between the Senator and the locals, I’m sure we’ll be able to find a diplomatic solution.”

Catra wished she could agree with the sentiment. “That seems pretty idealistic. People are already dead; locals are angry, they aren’t going to give up until they get what they want.”

“We have to figure out what they want then,” Glimmer answered.

“Isn’t obvious what they want?” Scorpia asked, looking between the other three. “Back in the Horde, people only revolted when they wanted us out.”

“And how did the Horde respond to that?” Bow already knew the answer.

“Not well,” Catra deadpanned, “With a lot more death.”

“These are things we’ll have to bring up and discuss with the Senator,” Glimmer concluded, determination etched on her features. “As Jedi it’s our job to mediate between the Republic and all its people.”

“Now more than ever,” Bow added, “We could use some good results after the last few months.”

The group continued to cycle through plans, ideas, and suggestions for the next hour. Despite Catra’s initial distaste for ‘do-gooding’ and ‘empathy’, she found herself feeling…needed. While her views may be more cynical and negative, her realism and strategical preparation meshed well with the Rebellion’s enaction of their idealism and humanitarianism.

Before long they were exiting hyper-space and landing in the middle of no-where. An envoy of people was waiting to meet them as the party exited the ship. Bow and Seahawk remained on the ship, taking care of proper landing regulations. Catra and Scorpia followed behind Glimmer, the three looking like quite the trio in their Jedi robes and cloaks.

An older gentleman with a balding head and silk embellished robes approached them. Surrounding him were multiple diplomats and soldiers. Around the perimeter of the landing bay were soldiers as well.

“Master Glimmer! What a pleasure to have you here,” Catra and Scorpia followed Glimmer’s lead in bowing slightly before the man – a sign of respect, Catra has been told.

“Senator Talos, the pleasure is all mine,” Glimmer gestured to the two behind her, “These are Jedi Knights Catra and Scorpia.”

The Senator bowed his head, “I am relieved to have your assistance here, Jedi Knights. Thaymor has seen its fair share of difficulties, but never have they been from internal forces.”

Senator Talos gestured for the three to follow, and the envoy began walking across the landing bay. “I am hoping that with your mere presence, perhaps violence will cease momentarily.”

Despite the warm welcome and the multitude of guards in the area, Catra felt uneasy. She took in her surroundings as they walked, the expanse of open fields and lack of cover giving her a feeling like they were being watched.

“You alright, Wildcat?” Scorpia muttered beside her.

Catra’s ear flicked as a breeze went by, her eyes continuing to scan the perimeter. Glimmer and the Senator continued exchanging pleasantries, but she tuned them out as she let her senses reach out.

Something wasn’t right.

Scorpia’s unease grew at her friend’s silence, and she too began focusing her senses on their surroundings.

“Something is out there,” Scorpia whispered.

“ _Someone_ is out there,” Catra corrected, “No doubt watching our every move and waiting for an opportunity.”

“Should we do something?”

Catra looked ahead at Glimmer and the Senator. The purple-haired Jedi glanced back at her with a subtle shake of her head.

“I guess not,” Catra relented. If it were up to her, she would charge out of here, using her senses and the Force to guide her way to the intruder. “It’s too open here, too guarded. Whoever they are and whatever their move is will take action somewhere more conspicuous.”

The entourage finally approached a large speeder, boarding it and exchanging greetings once again. Scorpia, Catra, and Glimmer sat on one end of the benches, the Senator and his guards sitting across from them. Before long they were hovering across the landscape heading for the capital.

“Why couldn’t we just land in the capital?” Catra huffed.

The Senator looked at the Jedi apologetically, “I did not want any locals to get the wrong idea about a Jedi starship coming to our planet. When Jedi are here, war follows. Many people hold…fear and insecurities about your intentions.”

“People don’t realize Jedi aren’t meant to be soldiers,” Glimmer continued.

“I think we seem to be doing a good job,” Scorpia piped up, “At soldiering, that is.”

“Sure, we make do.” Glimmer met Catra’s gaze, “But Jedi are supposed to be peace-keepers, not war-fighters.”

Catra didn’t really see the difference.

“Regardless, I thought it be safer for you to enter the city more discreetly,” Senator Talos went on. “When we reach the capital, we shall hold a meeting with the Representatives and Ambassadors to discuss our course of action.”

“Are your Representatives and Ambassadors elected?” Catra asked.

The Senator hesitated, and Catra narrowed her eyes at his discomfort.

“In theory of course we wish to have democracy here, however the imbalance of power has done quite the damage on the land and infrastructure of the planet.” The Senator didn’t like these questions, Catra could feel his nerves. “The Horde ran a dictatorship and harmed millions of innocents with their drafts and slavery, and the Republic is trying to help rebuild what is left. Elections were rushed and the ones currently in office are only temporary until proper offices can be maintained and filled.”

“Well how did the planet run before the war?” Scorpia inquired.

The Senator chuckled at that question. “Well there wasn’t really a _system_ so to speak. Everything was localized and operated by village. No centralized power, no government, and little connection. Very uncivilized.”

Catra’s fist clenched, her gaze jumping to Glimmer who was unusually quiet.

“No matter all of that,” Senator Talos cut off, “We will go into great details when we meet with the others. Welcome to the capital city of Thaymor, Morthay!” The Senator gestured dramatically around the speeder, and Catra realized they had entered the city’s outskirts.

Her mind was buzzing, anger building at the Senator’s words.

_Uncivilized?_

_What kind of Republic refers to its people like that?_

“Catra…”

_Would Adora agree with this?_

“Catra.”

Her head snapped up, breaking her from her thoughts.

Glimmer was staring at her; her purple eyes almost pleading.

Catra realized her fists were shaking and her breathing heavy.

_Control your anger._ Master Razz’s voice echoed in her head.

_What did she know anyway?_

_Would she support this fool of a Senator?_

Catra wanted to hit something. Hard.

Perhaps the Senator’s face.

_Do it._ A voice which haunted her memories whispered in her ear.

_Your lightsaber is right there._ Shadow Weaver’s voice taunted her.

_What’s stopping you?_

“Catra, calm down. We’re going to figure it out.” Glimmer whispered.

Catra couldn’t control it. She _wanted_ to do it. Use her anger like she had a million times before. She’s been trying so hard to control it, but what was the point? What was she controlling it for?

_Lashing out won’t help. Fix it, dummy._

Adora.

Her voice washed over Catra like a wave.

_You get so worked up._ A chuckle.

Gods she missed that laugh.

_Your tail is even puffed out._

Her gaze shot down her tail and sure enough the fur was all raised and tense. Mortified, Catra finally relaxed, her fists unclenching and her mind disengaging. Her breathing went back to normal, and Glimmer was still watching her intently.

“Sorry…” Catra mumbled sheepishly.

This was her first mission. The council had trusted her to handle herself, and the second she had the opportunity she nearly gave in to the darkness.

The Senator was animatedly issuing a tour of all the sights across from her. Scorpia was hanging on to every word, enraptured by the sights outside the window.

“It’s okay,” Glimmer scooted closer to Catra on the bench, “I’m angry too. We have a lot of work to do here.”

Catra nodded, feeling ashamed at her behavior. What had these Jedi turned her into? Oh no. She was starting to _care_?

“Where did you go?” Glimmer asked softly.

Catra shook off her thoughts, “What do you mean?”

“When you were angry,” Glimmer continued, “I could feel it. There was this…cold that surrounded you. For a second I thought…”

“That I would lose it and start killing people?”

Glimmer shrugged with a slight laugh, “I guess. Something like that.”

“I wanted to,” Catra admitted, “But that isn’t how to fix things.”

Glimmer nodded, but Catra could tell there was something else she wanted to say. Something she wanted to know.

“Just ask,” Catra huffed out.

Glimmer narrowed her eyes, thinking about what she wanted to say.

“When Adora would struggle with her feelings, she got…pretty intense. Almost like what you did but less killing instinct.” Glimmer started, “But then she would do something. Think about something or…I’m not sure. And it would just turn off like a switch.”

Catra felt another lump forming in her throat.

“Just then, you did the same thing. I’ve never met someone before Adora who struggled with so much light and darkness. Someone with so much _power_. And you…it’s…you’re so much like her sometimes.”

Glimmer trailed off, seeming lost in her own feelings now.

“It was her,” Catra answered Glimmer’s unasked question. “She’s what I think about to pull myself out of the darkness.”

A silence fell over the two Jedi. And the speeder came to a stop.

“Alright! I would be honored if you all would join me in some refreshments before we gather the others,” The Senator announced.

The group exited the speeder and made their way through the capital building, ready to get on with what would definitely be a long day. 


	7. Protest - Adora

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for the amazing comments and feedback! I love hearing what you think of the story so far! Just a bit of a warning, prepare for the angst. I apologize in advance. Also I promise, there will be longer Adora chapters coming soon! Right now, it's important to build up the mystery, but it will be worth it!

“Are you sure you wish to do this, She-Ra?”

Adora looked up as she pulled on her new gloves. She checked over the rest of her armor, securing the leather strappings once more.

“This doesn’t have to be your fight,” Tez continued, “You have already given us so much.”

Adora shook her head, “You know that isn’t true.”

She finally locked gazes with the older man. His brunette hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail for once, and his beard had gotten scruffier. He had the same kind eyes as his niece, though the light in them had significantly dulled. He too was wearing makeshift armor, as was the rest of the abled-body people in the village.

Just in case.

Adora was the only one really prepared for battle, at her insistence. She planned to make sure no one else had to get hurt.

The village blacksmith had worked on her armor for the past few weeks once the village realized her latest endeavors. It was mostly made of white leather for movement, but the bracers, greaves, and chest plate were sturdy sheets of gold steel.

The best part was the helmet.

Styled almost like a crown, gold metal feathers tipped either side of it. And the masked front of it would conceal her face. The mouthpiece when spoken into would filter and alter her voice.

It was the perfect suit of armor she could ask for.

Agile, protective, and secretive. The Republic and the Jedi couldn’t know who was under the helmet. Neither could the Horde.

 As far as either was concerned, Adora the Jedi Knight and savior of the Rebellion was dead.

Now, only She-Ra remained.

At least on the outside.

“The Republic’s presence here is corrupt,” Adora started, “On other planets, I’ve never seen administration work like this. Something else is at play here, and the people are getting caught in the crosshairs.”

Adora stared down at the helmet in her hands, her reflection staring back at her.

“You all have the right to protest the injustice happening here. And if the Republic won’t listen…If they escalate the peaceful marches…”

Adora donned her helmet.

“They’ll have to go through me.”

Her voice came out deep and robotic. She sounded intimidating, threatening even.

Tez nodded solemnly, “Relka would have been twelve years old today…”

Adora’s fists clenched, the leather squeaking. Her anger flared immediately at the mention of the girl. She didn’t deserve to die sick and helpless in a bed. Without proper healthcare and medicine…without the Republic’s help.

Relka had passed almost a month ago now.

Adora had lost it.

Ransacked the nearest Rebellion outpost miles away.

She found the vaccination that would have saved Relka’s life in the medical tent, packed in bulk.

She could have easily been helped if their reports and pleas for aid had been heard. Going through the proper appeals and channels had done nothing.

If Adora had acted sooner, stolen the medicine, things could have turned out differently.

At least she had been able to return with the medicine for all the other villagers suffering from the epidemic. Then they had all found out the truth of her identity.

“Then let’s honor her memory and bring _change_ for the people,” Adora held out her hand, “No matter the cost, we _will_ get justice for these wrongs.”

The older man’s face hardened; determination etched into his features.

He took her arm in a firm embrace.

Then they marched.


	8. Disbelief - Catra

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back!  
> Hope everyone in the States had a nice Thanksgiving! Thank you everyone for the kind comments and kudos, I really appreciate your feedback and thoughts!  
> Time to dive into some more plot!

“So, you’re telling me you opened fire on a congregation of _peaceful_ protests?!”

 “No, no, no! You mistake me, Master Catra. The protests were certainly not peaceful! They came armed and dressed for war!”

“Were any shots fired before you had your soldiers respond?”

“Well, no. But an army marched up to the gates of the capital! What would you have me do, Master Glimmer?”

“How about _talk_ to your people like you’re supposed to?!”

“Now, Master Catra, I feel your tone is –”

“My tone –”

“Enough!” Glimmer halted the bickering, standing from her seat abruptly, “I think it’s time for a brief recession. We will meet back and continue talking –”

Catra pushed her chair out so hard it fell to the floor. The magicat stomped out.

“ – in an hour.” Glimmer finished with a sigh.

The other Ambassadors and Representatives at least had the decency to look slightly ashamed of how events took place. 

Senator Talos on the other hand…

Glimmer followed Catra out, using her senses to lead her to the affronted Jedi-in-training. She had an idea to help Catra diffuse all this built up anger.

Hell, after the crap she just heard, _she_ had some steam to let off as well.

There was no doubt in Glimmer’s mind that Senator Talos needed to be removed from office. He clearly was incapable of compromise and compassion; he held favoritism towards people more like him – privileged, rich, and politically powerful.

That isn’t how this Republic works.

How did he get in power here to begin with?

How did they not _know_?

Glimmer found Catra outside in the gardens. She quickly picked up two large sticks, moderately the size of swords.

“I can’t believe that prick!” Catra shouted out, staring out over the terrace and clearly sensing and hearing Glimmer’s presence behind her. “No wonder people are revolting and killing, he doesn’t possess a single cell of empathy in his body! And that’s rich coming from me!”

Catra started pacing, still not facing Glimmer.

The purple-haired Jedi let her have a moment.

“He’s acting almost as awful as the Horde right now! No, you know what? He’s worse than that, because at least the Horde knows it’s a piece of shit and owns it!” Catra’s head finally turned to face her, and in that same instant Glimmer tossed one of the sticks toward her.

The magicat caught it gracefully, not missing a beat. Glimmer charged.

Glimmer took some satisfaction in the way Catra’s ears perked up in alarm, but she met Glimmer’s attack. The sticks slammed together, loud and quick.

The two traded blows, sticks angling and re-angling to clash together. Glimmer wasn’t holding back, and Catra realized just how skilled of a swordsman Glimmer could be when she wasn’t constantly distracted and worried about her allies in combat.

They had never paired off before in combat training. They always practiced in a group, either a free-for-all, or everyone against Catra. 

But this?

This was something else, entirely.

Glimmer’s swings were hard, strength following through in her technique. Catra didn’t let their make-shift weapons stall together for too long, instead using her speed to parry and dodge.

The sticks met, beat after beat, swing after swing. Bark was flinging off in pieces as the force of their battle continued. Catra ducked under a high swing and kicked Glimmer’s legs out from under her. 

The purple haired Jedi fell, and Catra’s stick swung downward.

Then suddenly, Catra was flying backward.

She slammed into a tree and the breath was forcefully stolen from her lungs at the impact. She hit the floor and managed to catch herself on her hands and knees, her stick having been jettisoned over the terrace.

Catra struggled to catch her breath as she stared up in shock.

Glimmer was frozen, hand outstretched and panting. Her eyes were blazing, but unfocused. Catra could feel the anger bristling under the Jedi’s skin, prickling into her senses.

Glimmer was not one to lose control of her anger like that.

But Catra knew how powerful a catalyst anger could be.

Glimmer finally snapped out of whatever had taken over her, eyes flickering to Catra who was still struggling to get air back in her lungs. 

“Oh my gods. Catra, I’m so sorry!” 

Glimmer was suddenly in her space, helping to stand her up. She looked horribly guilty and ashamed. But Catra finally had oxygen to spare, and she couldn’t help but start laughing.

“You threw me like fifteen feet! I didn’t know you had it in you, Sparkles.”

Glimmer was shaking her head and backing away, “No, I shouldn’t have done that. That was way too much.”

“You were defending yourself. I was about to kick your ass, just like all the other times.” Catra pointed out.

Glimmer didn’t answer.

Catra opened her mouth to say something else, but Scorpia rounded one of the bushes and entered the garden, “There you guys are! Ambassador Aymara wanted to speak to us before the assembly resumed.”

Behind Scorpia appeared another young woman. 

She had dark eyes and dark skin, wearing a beautifully woven silk robe. She carried herself with pride and dignity, but her eyes looked open and friendly.

“It’s an honor to make your acquaintance, Jedi,” Ambassador Aymara bowed respectfully. Catra and Glimmer did the same, the purple-haired Jedi finally seemed to come back to herself.

“What can we help you with, Ambassador?” Glimmer inquired.

“Please call me Aymara,” She scanned their environment nervously, “What I wish to discuss should be done so in a more private place.”

Glimmer, Catra, and Scorpia exchanged glances, but they agreed all the same. Aymara led the three of them back inside City Hall, making turns and heading down corridors until finally ushering them into a small study.

The Ambassador locked the door behind them with a press of a few buttons. She gave them no time to get settled.

“I’m afraid Senator Talos is severely underplaying the danger occurring here on Thaymor,” She started. “The people are revolting and holding protests, but the killings are undertaken by what I believe is a Sith Lord.”

The air turned cold at the revelation.

“That’s quite a bold statement,” Catra wasn’t sure what to think of that. There was only one Sith Lord left after Catra removed Shadow Weaver from the board: Lord Hordak. 

Unless there was a new apprentice.

Or unless Shadow Weaver was still alive.

“What makes you so sure?” Glimmer inquired.

 Aymara took a steadying breath, “On the night the people marched to the capital, they came in thousands. The people must have rallied from village to village, but the ones in the front – the village heads – those were the people who were shot at.”

She paused, almost as if she couldn’t even believe what she was about to say.

“The shots…they _froze_.”

“They froze…?” Scorpia was rubbing her chin thoughtfully with her pincer.

“Yes! In mid-air! Like something just suspended them in time, I had never seen anything like it. The people panicked, rightfully so, and more shots were fired. Every single blast aimed at the protesters was stopped. Just like the first.”

“What does this have to do with Sith Lords?” Catra wasn’t really following, although she was confused about what had really happened that night.

The Ambassador collected herself once more, “The killings happening in near-by villages, they seem to be happening through intense scalding slices. Much like the weapons you carry. And…”

Aymara trailed off, seemingly discouraged in their lack of faith of her recounting.

“Keep going, Ambassador. We want to hear what you have to say,” Glimmer encouraged, giving her a reassuring smile.

“Some of the soldiers who were involved in the outbreak of violence, they claim to have seen a warrior in a mask with a red lightsaber.”

Catra’s blood ran cold. Like ice cracking through her spine.

“There was just so many people, so much chaos. It was impossible to tell what was happening within the crowd once they started dispersing.”

It couldn’t be.

How was that possible?

A woman in a mask with a red lightsaber?

_Shadow Weaver._

_She was here? Alive?_

_Causing destruction and death as per usual._

_But protecting the people?_

_What was going on?_

“Thank you for bringing this information to us, Aymara,” Scorpia gave her grateful smile. 

Catra zoned out as Glimmer and Scorpia shared thanks and goodbyes. The Ambassador bowed and made a graceful exit.

Glimmer nodded, “This makes things much more complicated. We need to open up a full investigation – these events on Thaymor are no accident. If we can –”

“It’s Shadow Weaver,” Catra announced.

Her fists clenched. 

It was always Shadow Weaver.

“You don’t know that,” Scorpia placed a comforting claw on her shoulder.

“It _has_ to be,” Catra persisted, “Glimmer, you told me yourself that the prison I was in was especially made for her. She was the only prisoner there before me. And

then…”

Adora.

“I’m going to kill her,” Catra stormed out of the study with a growl.

All this time. All these months.

They had no leads. No survivors. No camera footage. No clues. 

Everything was burnt to a crisp. And they’ve heard nothing back from Entrapta and her investigation within the Horde.

But it had been _Shadow Weaver_ the whole fucking time.

A part of Catra thought it might be. She was pissed when Glimmer informed her of Adora’s mercy. That she had been in the same prison. 

Catra had hoped whoever destroyed the prison had destroyed that evil witch too. But it was a possibility Shadow Weaver had done it herself.

“Catra! Stop!”

Glimmer was grabbing her arm, and Catra hissed as she was spun around.

“Let go of me!”

“You’re acting reckless! Think about this for a second,” Glimmer’s grip on her arm loosened, and Catra ripped herself free.

“We don’t know if it’s Shadow Weaver, and even if it is…” Glimmer trailed off, and Scorpia stepped in.

“Wildcat, even if Shadow Weaver is here, it doesn’t necessarily mean she was responsible for the prison. Maybe she just escaped when it was destroyed. Maybe she’s working with whoever destroyed it. Maybe it isn’t Shadow Weaver at all. The point is…we don’t know enough about the situation to jump to conclusions.”

Catra was breathing hard. 

She knew they were right. Both of them.

She was so sick of not knowing.

Adora deserved justice.

Maybe here on Thaymor they could finally get some answers.

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” Glimmer placed either hand on her companion’s shoulders. “I am going to finish these meetings and place Senator Talos on probation. I’ll deal with the politics and oversee the actions of the Representatives and Ambassadors while you two go out to the villages and gather information, _discreetly_.”

“You trust us to gather intel…?” Scorpia’s eyes widened in awe, and Catra rolled her eyes.

“I trust Catra to be effective, and I trust you, Scorpia, to keep Catra in check and connect with the people,” Glimmer gave their shoulders a squeeze before releasing, “Don’t interrogate, talk to people. Maybe we can get some answers about what really happened, and this supposed Sith Lord.”

Catra took a deep breath, “What about the protests? I know there’s someone watching us, you felt it too.”

“I’ll be fine, I can handle angry villagers and stupid politicians,” Glimmer assured her.

For some reason Catra found herself not liking this plan very much. No matter how nice it felt that Glimmer trusted her to go on her own, nor how nice getting some space to do her own thing would be.

Separating seemed like a bad idea.

“Are you sure…?” Catra checked anyway.

_Sure I can handle this?_

_Sure I won’t mess it up?_

_Sure I won’t lose it?_

“You got this, fang-face,” Glimmer’s eyes held nothing but genuine support. Once upon a time, Catra may have gagged at that. Or sliced her face. Maybe both.

Instead she gave Glimmer a firm punch on the shoulder.

“If anything happens, I’ll reach you over our comms. You two do the same, we’ll check in with each other every night okay? Make sure to check in with Bow and Seahawk, too. We need to make sure they’re ready if we need them. As long as it takes to get some answers.” 

Catra and Scorpia agreed.

The trio had no idea what was coming.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> This is my first fic, and I couldn't get this idea out of my head. Just a forewarning, this fic may not get finished. Just depends on time and motivation. For now, I'm just having fun with it!


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